The Marauder who was a Marionette
by Nadir Ex Obscurum
Summary: Amidst the conflagration that threatens her, a priestess of Ra still remains to deliver her praises and beseech assistance for the plague that has befallen Egypt at the hands of the Thief King. Our main antagonist himself overhears the girl and views her audacity with a mixture of scorn yet awe. The much abhorred Zorc also makes a most unwelcome appearance in this short story.
1. The Price for an Act not of Vice

_Note: This story that I have written in poetic format is not all that "short". The circumstances and situations featured in this work are purely hypothetical and may contain a few inaccuracies. The story first starts from the viewpoint of a character priestess whose perspective I tell from a first person point of view, with the story later making a somewhat sloppy switch to third person to focus more on Bakura. You have been admonished._

_Last but by no means least, constructive criticism is encouraged. I hope that anyone who comes across this enjoys it, save for the case of Zorc fangirls (if those even exist….Ra, I'm sure a few do, somehow). _

_The characters of the Thief King Bakura and Zorc Necrophades as well as the location of Kul Elna and the manner in which ancient Egypt is depicted and related indica are all copyright __to Kazuki Takahashi. _

Meeting with Sorrow, Promise for an Infernal Tomorrow (Featuring an Invocation to Ra)

Acquainted with the Thief, A New Perspective of True Grief

I ascend the steps of a temple of my glorious god that has been mercilessly set aflame,

The one who dared to commit this heinous sacrilege with delight takes the blame.

Behind me trails the extremity of the golden robe which in my service to you I do wear,

Its hues of brilliance and gilded designs contrast with the raven hue of my lengthy hair.

A pervasive malice overwhelms this land and spins our lives in its ruthless centrifuge,

All of my fellow priests and priestesses, stricken with horror, now seek refuge.

I, too, would be wise to escape this commanding structure of a godly shrine,

And in the wind as my hair blows about frantically I smell the flesh of roasting kine.

I have no choice but to remain by the side of the deity I was meant to serve,

And cry aloud the rumor of a most malicious being who had quite the wretched nerve.

My very heart remains within your pillars, O celestial caesar, and it I cannot leave.

Time is of utmost essence, for the sands of our metaphorical hourglass do rapidly sieve.

A most atrocious tragedy it would be for few Egyptians to have survived only to bereave.

Although an unimaginable terror of this hellfire now grabs tightly at my heart,

From you and my eternal devotion to you, O glorious god, I dare not to part.

O golden god! I entreat you to acknowledge my terrified yet most sincere cry,

He who possesses formidable potency and is the sovereign of the magnificent sky!

Resplendent Ra, I beseech you to acknowledge this somber and desperate wail,

Brace yourself, O Luminous Lord of Light, as I commence a most woeful tale.

As your radiance proceeds to overwhelm the umbra cast by your mother, Nut, at night,

Your people, the children of these scorching sands, flee their homes in blind fright.

The terror infecting Egypt has contaminated her streaming veins and grown ever vile,

As evidenced by the tumultuous clashes of the waters of the ever raging Nile.

O! How horrid irony can be when upon this temple honoring the deity of all that is bright,

A menace of radiance appears that rapaciously devours every item in its wrathful sight.

Truth be told, my liege, this grotesque display of luminance is not of your own light.

I suddenly hear a most monstrous noise that expressed itself in a sinister growl,

And surrounding snickers of derision interspersed with language deemed most fowl.

Heart pounding, I immediately turn to face the one who has interrupted my prayer.

The sight I behold was certainly not that of a man whose occupation was a soothsayer.

My eyes observe the figure of a man of a most powerful build and majestic gait,

But, no, this looming figure was not the pharaoh who made me now question my fate.

A flaxen hood concealed the head of the man and cast a slight shadow over his face,

Yet this could not possibly conceal the vehement loathing he held for his Egyptian race,

Nor could it obscure the gleam which emanated from a pair of wretched amethyst eyes,

A pair of lilac orbs that would have perturbed those who led lives of the tormented wise.

A duo of lavender mirrors, together reflecting all of this man's torturous, inherent agony,

And from these alone I knew innate hatred and sorrow to be united in lethal matrimony.

His lithe build and masculine image were complimented by the crimson robe he wore,

Perhaps in my awed, ignorant state I take its hue for a symbol of his lust for gore?

At the tips lay bands of a pure white that comprised the foundation of this scarlet attire,

Yet this wardrobe could not match the intensity of the eyes that contained a loathing fire.

The few rings upon his fingers are bedecked by rare gems of innumerable worth,

Yet menial trophies compared to other loot he had acquired from the effort he put forth.

In addition he sported a navy blue sarong just beneath his muscular abdomen,

With his features increasingly becoming the embodiment of a portentous omen.

Most notably, a fearsome mark upon his cheek exists incongruous to his swarthy skin,

I know not how to react to it and somehow feel to stare at it would be a grave sin.

Alas, I give in to temptation and continue to gape at this formidable soul's scar,

The intrigued yet aghast fascination for it that I expressed could easily be seen from afar.

A single main slash accompanied by two equally significant slits were what I saw,

A silent smirk appears upon the man's visage as he catches me staring at his alleged flaw.

He commenced to remove his hood which concealed erratic strands of ashen hair,

Again, as in the manner of an unmannered child, I cannot help but incredulously stare.

I now tremble before this man who now instills absolute terror in my petrified soul,

The description of the vagabond others had described now appeared before me in whole.

Silence ensues for a little longer before this intimidating figure commences to speak,

I detect a tingling sensation traveling down my spine as I now feel helpless and weak.

"Girl! Has this blaze which I have so graciously set to this eyesore cooked your brains?

Continue to stay and your only salvation will only be when Tefnut decides it rains!

Not that I much care for what happens to you at all, as I am on my way to the throne,

And I am quite sure it would be almost as lovely to see you burned to the bare bone.

Yet, your seeming stupidity intrigues me, what is it that holds you back?

Is it the common sense that one should flee from the hazard I have placed that you lack?"

Trembling, I respond indignantly, "My entire life is implied within these pillars,

And I am not one to succumb to the inconsiderate, monstrous acts of killers!

My entire life revolves about the bringer of brightness and to him I display my fidelity,

The great god of golden glory who showers upon all Egypt his equal prosperity!

You would be wise to express some humility, you scoundrel, rather than flaunt to Ra your temerity!

Pray for your wanton, wicked soul, spiteful fiend, or you'll be sure to burn for eternity!

I know very well who you are, you heinous example of a man!

You take to causing others sorrow simply because you can!

You are the abhorrent leader of looters and self-proclaimed king of thieves,

He who brings despair to the innocent and eternal torment he leaves!"

The bandit's eyes narrow in response before he reveals to me his toothy, feral grin.

"Fool! It truly surprises me that you are well and alive in your own flesh and skin.

Mindless sheep such as you still survive, yet injustice long ago set ablaze my kin.

Your pharaoh, he's a gem, truly, that excrement that sits upon the throne is the true sin.

With the malevolence of a dark deity on my side and my power, I am certain to win.

Humor me; did your beloved ruler of radiance attempt to intervene when I took lives?

Or when the pharaoh's father's lot of cowardly men swarmed about my village in hives?

Your lord of luminance, it would appear, illuminates nothing but his own indifference,

For did any of these situations end with anything save desolation and penitence?

Your faithfulness to this supposed divine being all the more proves you a fool,

Just like those inept, imbecilic servants the pharaoh uses and abuses as he would a tool!

An unimaginable revulsion for that pincushion is deeply lodged within me.

The fortitude of my will and detestation shall soon be visible for the whole world to see,

And I shall with utmost alacrity discard this corrupt world into the very maw of misery!

So be grateful that at this instant you have still yet to be consumed by these flames,

And what you decide to do now is not my concern, for I have more important aims.

But tell me again, why is it that you are so steadfast in your desire to stay here?

You will die alone, burnt to a crisp in solitude, for no longer are your comrades near.

I find it quite amusing, actually, how a pathetic female like you refuses to flee,

Instead you choose to remain only to entertain a nonexistent god with your pitiful plea.

Save your breath, girl; do not even try to define the concept of monstrosity to _me_!"

The pillaging prince makes a slight motion as if he is about to depart,

Yet in his eyes a nearly unrecognizable yet existent spark begins to start.

In that instant I read more than can be described in words from that short-lived flicker.

That the degree to which the thief and I remained loyal to our ambitions did not differ.

We remain loyal to our missions and relentless until we have reached our destined goals,

Each of us acting out different parts yet performing similarly themed roles.

In the end, the result for the both of us would involve having to pay hefty tolls.

The monarch of marauder's violet eyes assumed a contemplating yet dazed glare.

The grave robber then had a flashback concerning an elderly man burned by fire's flare,

The wisest and most ancient member of Kul Elna had been most unfortunate to be there.

The thief remembered imploring the elder to escape from his demise as a young child,

Yet the elderly human's expression remained stolid as the flames grew increasingly wild.

He remembered his high pitched cries of anguish calling the old man: _"Ammon!"_

Alas, the audacious, obstinate soul and body of the elderly creature had long been gone.

Ammon the Wise, the prudent grandfather figure to the thief, was no more.

Even this human embodiment of the test to time too had fallen victim to senseless gore.

The thief recalled the heartache and despair he felt when the old man had disappeared.

Hence had begun a lengthy life of solitude and tragedy which he had so long feared.

All his loved ones had gone with the flames and nothing save charred corpses remained,

All for the sake of seven menial golden trinkets of pitiful power to be gained.

And because of this even the scintillating, golden ring had the thief come to despise,

A daily reminder of how his mother, father, sister, and beloved friends met their demise.

Much in the manner he had been a captive, the necklace holding the ring became a chain,

A taunting reminder of the numerous lives of Kul Elna that had been sacrificed in vain.

He had once loved and admired Ammon and the old man's unwavering determination,

It was this attribute precisely that caused Ammon to be consumed by conflagration.

Ammon had courageously allowed himself to be taken by the flames in his very home,

A man too acquainted with his beloved village to find another place about which to roam.

Unbeknownst to me, the ruler of rogues believes that I abstractly act the role of Ammon,

For I did not care if remaining within the fiery temple of Ra meant I would be gone.

My only purpose was to remain in the temple that had all along been my true abode,

I found life here and intended to have my life be ended only along its sacred road.

He snarls in my direction before quickly replacing his former expression with a sneer.

"Oh, I'm sure it will be quite a beautiful sight to see the priestess fool smoked alive here,

So I wish you "well" as you are engulfed and destroyed by my ruthless flames, my dear."

Lifting his head into the air, the outlaw chuckles vindictively as he mounts his horse,

And aggressively tugs on its reigns, relishing as the creature yelps and begins its course.

At the very front of the temple where I stand, the horse's head faces in my direction,

And it is coerced to follow the precise path of his callous master's selection.

He points at the very spot where I am and the horse gallops towards me at full speed,

_O, Ra! He intends to have me massacred by the hooves of his massive minion of a steed! _

Madly, the vicious king and his compliant stallion come closer to accomplish the deed.

At the last moment, however, the coldhearted king makes most unexpected moves,

As he comes from behind me and my feet are nearly smashed by frantic hooves.

At that split second as I am motionless with my mouth agape at the current situation,

Yet there was hardly a second's interval that allowed me any time for deliberation.

The thief suddenly strikes my cheek with the back of his hand and incisive ring stones,

I feel the skin upon the afflicted portion of my face nearly release a series of moans.

The force of the blow, as would be expected, did not faze the bandit king at all,

And I stumbled uncontrollably forwards into a most ungraceful fall.

Before I can look upon my offender in a mixture of soreness, anger, and shock,

The pillars of the flaming temple violently crumble apart, block by block.

Had I not stumbled forward, I would have been crushed by the cascading pillar stone,

And have been instantly flattened and crushed apart bone by bone.

At that very moment droplets of rain commenced to unleash their liquid from the sky,

Drenching Egypt in its entirety in every location the searing sands lie.

The fire atop the temple begins to die and its fading wisps desperately plummet,

Now remaining are only ruins where once the infernal flames had been at their summit.

From my vulnerable position face down upon the sand, I am completely taken aback,

Was it then possible that the soul of this barbaric thief was not entirely black?

As I contemplated his motives for sparing me in that manner, I felt my cheek,

The wounds inflicted upon it by the cut stones upon the thief's rings proceeded to leak.

As I touched the afflicted area and tenderly caressed it with the palm of my hand,

Miniscule, ruby beads of hemoglobin descended upon the now soaked sand.

The instant the scarlet droplets made contact with the terrain they ceased to be,

Forever absorbed as part of Geb's plain and a minute portion of the endless sandy sea.

The thief remained seated upon his equally stealthy stallion, silently observing the scene,

Witnessing every menial event and collecting all the visual details he could glean.

No object was in the vicinity that I could possibly utilize to examine the facial damage,

For nothing in the vicinity existed that could possibly reflect my current image.

The plundering prince watched me, evidently becoming all the more amused.

He delighted in watching one he considered inferior to himself becoming so confused.

"I can tell you that now upon that cheek I have dealt you a most memorable scar,

Not quite identical to the one I have but it is still easily discernible by all from afar.

The blood that trickles from the wound has soaked that very piece of earth,

Much like the incident that happened to my people, many of whom suffered from dearth.

This land yet still remains be tainted by their unjustly spilled blood,

The horrific massacre of Kul Elna over which it spilled like a flood.

And as for my own blemish?" The thief gingerly touched his scar with his fingertips.

Closing his eyes for a moment, he remembered the cause of its double-crossed rips.

"I suppose you could say it is the literal emblem of the carnage's impact on my life.

As much as I despise this little mark, it yet instills in me strength to endure daily strife.

Even though the Kul Elna massacre was not the time from which my scar originated,

It continuously gives me power to tend to my lust for vengeance that must be sated.

Just as you now bear a similar scratch upon your cringing, trembling visage,

It shall forever remind you of this day and my godly, horror inducing passage.

So, once again, I tell you to "praise Ra", for today I decided to spare your soul,

Others in your similar state would have unquestionably been coerced to pay my toll.

Remember my name, Touzoku-ou, Akefiia Bakura, the chaotic King of Thieves,

The master of cunning, artful deception, and tangled webs he always weaves,

Everywhere he roams, an innocent perishes and a sobbing widow grieves.

All the actions I perform merely reflect how your pharaoh's father wronged me,

That day he chose _my _village as the destination to embark on his butchery spree.

And now, you fortunate, foolish young woman, I leave you and bid farewell to thee!

But not before I remind you that in truth, there is no hope for your bloody humanity,

Your kind has been cursed with the guaranteed coming of Zorc's rage and insanity!"

With this the thief and his sycophants road off into the distance.

Farther along the journey, some of the followers began to question the recent instance.

"Master, you displayed mercy towards a girl, when you have killed many like her before,

What is it that prevents you now from unleashing upon her the wrath you have in store?"

The thief mockingly grinned as he turned to face the one who dared question him.

"Alas, my loyal, obsequious little fool, you were always one to be quite dim.

When Zorc encompasses this world in his sinister shield of dark,

There will not even be a wretched mutt left to forlornly bark!

However, I entertain myself with the prospect that if the girl is the last to die,

She will be left to witness all the souls of her beloved friends fly.

A despondent terror shall strike her spirit and be unleashed as a cacophonous cry.

Her caterwauling shall provide our dark master Zorc with his last entertainment,

As she is left in solitude to lament the ones she lost as she remains in detainment.

That scar that I bestowed upon her countenance indeed serves her well as a curse,

For it is a mark of destruction that will lastly have the shadows devouring her hearse!

I shall then proceed to sacrifice the girl and give Lord Zorc her worthless soul,

And then all of earth shall be rid of dreadful human beings as a whole!"

The robber's followers each glanced at one another in confusion and disbelief,

They weren't quite as sharp as their king to fully understand his plans as the leader thief.

As the monarch of marauders and his men continued to rampage throughout the day,

Trouble commenced to brew within the ring where the zealous Zorc Necrophades lay.

A menacing, demonic voice hissed, "_I detect fragility in my property of a slave,_

_He who is unwise and knows not the manner his dark master desires him to behave._

_A vulnerable, weak mortal girl remained open to obliterate yet you did not act, _

_If I didn't know better, I would say that with this girl you have made a protection pact. _

_This is contrary to the qualities I must see in a human whom I possess to execute my plot,_

_It appears that as of late that the duties you are ordered to perform are given no thought._

_Continue to defy me; I shall in turn feast upon your soul until your very being is naught. _

_Think you that I am so dim-witted as to believe that piteous excuse you gave your men?_

_Those fawning numskulls who each have the intelligence of a flighty hen? _

_Need I remind you that I am the ultimate god and sovereign of the voracious shadows?_

_And that in my domain every lost soul is engulfed by gloom and in the dark it wallows?_

_And with every mortal's soul that is forever lost in the moments after they pitifully cower,_

_An exponential boost arises in the extent of the terror I bring and my almighty power. _

_Dare you to go against me, the ancient incarnation of Satan, and go about like this?_

_I, the feared tyrant of terror, duke of despair, king of calamity, and likeness of Dis?_

_I will indeed penalize you for that most touching "chivalrous" display._

_You shall come to rue the moment you ever committed what you did today_!"

Zorc's sinister snicker greatly disturbed the tympani of Bakura's ears,

The distress Zorc caused his soul was the awakening of Bakura's most appalling fears.

After the ancient games ended, Zorc would still arise occasionally in his modern years.

The thief's internal conflict would repeatedly try him and threaten to tear him apart,

For irony lies in his days of his partnership with Zorc where the enmity did truly start.

Although a man who from internal resentment had succumbed to the will of a dark deity,

Thief King Bakura had yet to become the manifestation of wickedness in its entirety.

As much as he had permitted a violent evil to seize a hold of his traumatized being,

A small portion of him still remained that comprehended and appreciated human feeling.

And this in the thief Zorc detested and bent his wrath upon breaking that emotional piece.

Necrophades would not allow the thief's human side to cause his ambitions to cease.

And every day Zorc did not fail to remind the thief of that day in his perturbing past,

One vile key he employed to bring the thief in abysmal agony upon his knees fast.

For the rest of the thief's days did Zorc intend to remind him of the Kul Elna torment,

And gain the upper hand over his reluctant puppet and coerce him to be his servant.

And in this manner the master of malice did plot for the human in Bakura to extinguish,

So that the dastardly devil himself could wreak upon the pained thief eternal anguish.


	2. InterludeParody: Zorc Necrofeces

"Bonus" Feature : A Vulgar Conceit of Zorc Necrophades's True Feat (Summer Special Mockery of the Dark Lord)

And so this colossal cyst on civilization continues to torment as it did when it was young,

This accursed being seen by all, including yours truly, as the divinity of dung.

What monstrous force did it take for the bowels of the earth to excrete this creature?

Zorc Necrophades, the world's most oversized filth, is certainly not its loveliest feature.

Poor Geb surely cried in distress at the time this living excrement experienced birth,

Even the relief he felt after the expulsion of Zorc couldn't have possibly given him mirth.

And yet he still lives as an eyesore to all who must see this fearsome fecal material,

Something slightly more serious than the digested remains of man's sinful cereal.

An issue larger than any other feasible even when compared to the plight of man,

Something for which nothing exists that is large enough to serve to flush it down the can.

Most regrettably, there has yet to be research to find the appropriate cure,

To return this smelly substance back to his rightful sewer.

And also there is a lingering stench originating from Zorc the putrid smelling mass,

Potent is he who makes it by without meeting his demise from Zorc's odor as they pass.

And for eternity, it seems, shall Zorc be the embodiment of man's darkness that reeks,

Forever a piece of him shall stride the earth leaving most enormous streaks.

Zorc shall always be to humanity the literal embodiment of the concept of wastes,

A true abomination and horrifying entity who sickens mortals of all tastes.

Again I reiterate that Zorc is the only deity to have originated from Set's behind,

And the man who encounters him recoils in disgust at this disgraceful find.

And so this, my friends, is what the author of this story believes to be Zorc's true source,

Again, I ask….who in Ra's name had the power to create Zorc with that sort of force?

Nobody really wants to know the truthful details behind that, of course.


End file.
